


The Desperate Kingdom Of Love

by ChemFishee



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: 2007 Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 19:44:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChemFishee/pseuds/ChemFishee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts as a silent protest, his way to voice his displeasure with the course their relationship is taking without saying a word.<br/>(March 2007)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Desperate Kingdom Of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Written using [1sentence](http://1sentence.livejournal.com/)'s Delta theme set.
> 
> (Originally posted [here](http://chemfishee.livejournal.com/58161.html).)

_1\. Flexible_ \- It starts as a silent protest, his way to voice his displeasure with the course their relationship is taking without saying a word.  
  
 _2\. Duty_ \- He doesn’t have to, a change this drastic on someone so staid and traditional impossible to miss, the hair in the sink the weight of his anger, a tangible number he can use to quantify his emotions.  
  
 _3\. War_ \- He doesn’t know where this is coming from, this seed of discontent planted deep in the fertile soil of his mind and nurtured under dim light; all he knows is there is a niggling that he’s finally paying attention to.  
  
 _4\. Strange_ \- Nick Stokes is not happy _andIdon’tknowwhattodotomakethisbetter_ , caught unaware by the realization that something’s changed or nothing’s changed, he’s not sure which.  
  
 _5\. Ugly_ \- He _does_ know, though, down deep and hidden in the recesses of his heart where he keeps his doubts of Greg, his most embarrassing and awful secret; only a truly horrible person would question their lover, partner, significant other the way Nick does Greg in this smallest area of his body.  
  
 _6\. Dark_ \- It’s all been different yet still the same since Greg got serious about transitioning out of the lab, the hours apart longer, the conversations terser, the feelings shallower.  
  
 _7\. Poison_ \- He should be ecstatic and overjoyed and thrilled that Greg’s finally going after something he’s wanted for so long, but he can’t help feeling cast aside, left behind, neglected.  
  
 _8\. Peace_ \- Nick cleans the clippers they share but leaves the hair in the sink, drawing battle lines in porcelain because there’s no way this can pass quietly.  
  
 _9\. Regret_ \- He’s sprawled on the couch, channel surfing, when he hears the front door click, and the surprised gasp tugs at his heartstrings.  
  
 _10\. Apples_ \- Fresh fruit rolls around the hardwood floor, breaking free of the prison of the dropped grocery sack.  
  
 _11\. Despair_ \- “What did you do?” a whispered accusation.  
  
 _12\. Beginning_ \- “I needed a change,” and Nick Stokes wonders where this is coming from, this new coldness, this new desire to hurt Greg to get his attention.  
  
 _13\. Head_ \- “So you shaved your hair?” half-joking and deadly serious.  
  
 _14\. Doors_ \- Greg disappears back the hall, and Nick can hear his confusion in the wall of silence.  
  
 _15\. End_ \- He looks defeated when he appears moments later, stepping over the spilled groceries, sitting on the edge of the coffee table, choosing his words carefully.  
  
 _16\. Hope_ \- Greg opens his mouth, closes it, considers a moment before trying again at the only place he can think of, “Why?” barely audible over the TV.  
  
 _17\. Food_ \- “Is there anything in there that could go bad?” Nick asks, stalling for time, trying to prevent a fight he started _becauseyoudon’tlookatmelikeyouusedtoanymore_.  
  
 _18\. Hollow_ \- “Stop avoiding the question, Nick, and tell me why you did this.”  
  
 _19\. Lost_ \- He wants to answer, wants to tell Greg everything that’s been on his mind for longer than he cares to admit, wants to move on from this, but doing so would be the equivalent of admitting defeat.  
  
 _20\. Old_ \- “You know, the whole stoic silence routine is no longer endearing,” he says, bending to retrieve the stray food from the floor.  
  
 _21\. Green_ \- There’s a flash of color above Greg’s waistband, a hint that grabs Nick’s attention, and he can’t look away from Greg’s bent-over form, ass in the air.  
  
 _22\. Welcome_ \- Nick’s behind him in an instant, hooking an arm around his chest, hauling him upright till they’re pressed together from shoulder to thigh.  
  
 _23\. Fire_ \- “I miss you,” and it’s the first time he’s admitted it even to himself.  
  
 _24\. Air_ \- There’s a deep sigh that travels through Greg and into Nick, an acknowledgement of everything the simple statement implies.  
  
 _25\. Secret_ \- “I know.”  
  
 _26\. Fall_ \- Nick pulls Greg even tighter against him, but their clothes prevent them from getting close enough, too many layers between them, too many fabric walls in the way, _toomanytoomanytoomany_.  
  
 _27\. Snow_ \- Lips latch onto the pale skin peaking above the thin cotton collar, pulling and purpling the skin in a sign of ownership.  
  
 _28\. Roses_ \- Hands work under the shirt, moving along hard planes and sharp angles, never still in their quest, and he feels Greg shiver and flush as he hits one of the spots guaranteed to get a reaction.  
  
 _29\. Wood_ \- “This doesn’t change,” breath hitches as Nick licks along his ear lobe, “anything.”  
  
 _30\. Pretty_ \- Nick forgets how agile Greg is, how quickly he can turn the tables, and before he knows what’s happened, lips are on his, hard, demanding, insistent _takeallthatyouwant_.  
  
 _31\. Summer_ \- Greg’s skin is warm, flushed with blood, and he can’t get enough, could never get enough, could have him naked and prone and still want more.  
  
 _32\. Bugs_ \- Hands are scrabbling along his shoulders, a thousand tiny feet trying to get a hold wherever they can, fingers splayed over his naked scalp looking for hair to grip and finding none.  
  
 _33\. New_ \- Greg wrenches his mouth away, panting heavily, backing away, something he’s never done before.  
  
 _34\. Coffee_ \- “I should put this stuff away,” and he’s bending over again, picking up the apples and the box of pasta and onions on the floor, keeping his head down and his back away from Nick.  
  
 _35\. Metal_ \- “Greg, stop it!” his voice sharper than he intended.  
  
 _36\. Grave_ \- “No, Nick,” quiet and firm.  
  
 _37\. Snakes_ \- Greg passes him on his way to the kitchen, putting the bag between them as a buffer.  
  
 _38\. Winter_ \- Nick watches him, suppressing a chill at the change between them _butthisiswhatyouwanted_.  
  
 _39\. Rain_ \- Greg is shaking his head, muttering to himself, voice soft, “So it’s come down to this?”.  
  
 _40\. Honor_ \- He wants to wrap his arms around him and tell him he’s sorry, it’s just hair, it’ll grow back, he’ll clean up his mess.  
  
 _41\. Foot_ \- Instead, he stands in the doorway silently, shifting his weight, looking for his balance.  
  
 _42\. Light_ \- The harsh fluorescent glow throws shadows threatening to overtake the younger man’s face into harsh relief, and Nick recognizes that as hard as this added strain has been on him, it’s been even worse for Greg; because this is the first time something hasn’t come easily to him and it’s not for lack of trying.  
  
 _43\. Water_ \- There’s a few tears of frustration, and he dies a little inside knowing that he’s caused them.  
  
 _44\. Drink_ \- Nick’s throat is dry, the words stuck there thick and unwieldy.  
  
 _45\. Flying_ \- He reaches a hand out, drops it, tries and fails again.  
  
 _46\. Earth_ \- His world is askew, knocked off its axis by his own stupidity _swallowyourfuckingprideandmakeitrightagain_.  
  
 _47\. Spring_ \- Greg’s head snaps up when Nick clears his throat, unaware he wasn’t alone.  
  
 _48\. Taboo_ \- “I’m sorry,” out before he has a chance to make it anything more.  
  
 _49\. Stable_ \- Greg’s defiant shoulders slump, and he’s never looked so small, frail, fragile; “How long we gonna keep this up?” a question with no real answer.  
  
 _50\. Solid_ \- “As long as it takes, G, long as it takes,” and in a few years when he’s working a case with a teenager with selective amnesia, the time he had to scream without sound to get Greg’s attention when he had it all along is one of the incidents Nick will want to forget.


End file.
